


Broken

by SuchFun_AreWe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cas POV, Coda, Episode: s09e10 Road Trip, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, One Shot, Pining Castiel, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuchFun_AreWe/pseuds/SuchFun_AreWe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Broken hearts and broken wings and a broken man driving away in the rain.<br/>For Cas, so many things are broken now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

Hearing his voice again is like fire and ice, it burns and it soothes. Destroys while it refreshes. Aches.

For too long he’d been alone. Human and alone.  
Hearing only silence where once there were the thundering, echoing voices of the angels and the murmured, whispered prayers of humans. Of his human. The emptiness had been deafening. Heartbreaking. For now he finds his heart can break. Even full again of power and flooded with stolen grace, he can break.

It’s new. Another new thing, in a lifetime where for so long nothing ever was. A long life of duty and orders and falling in line.  
Until Dean. Until doubt and questions and disobedience. Then he fell out of line, fell out of Heaven, and now he can break. He can hurt. He can want.

Oh, he can want.

As Dean’s prayer echoes in his head, filling all those hollow, lonely places his brush with humanity has left him, he feels that warm rush enfold him. Hot and aching and raw. Need. Want. Desire. Oh, desire. So strong his heart thuds with it, his mouth goes dry. He has to shut his eyes against it, fingernails dig into palms and he shakes. He listens. First with a look of relief in his eyes, then only the shining beginnings of tears.

Oh no. Oh Dean.

Dean speaks of empty roads, of empty hearts, in twists of emotion and flashes of images. No words. Just that first strangled, unconscious cry of “Cas” and then a wave of endless, hopeless, hapless feelings. He is so alone and his head is full of loathing. Sorrow twisting like a knife in his hand. He hones the edges of his pain and slashes into himself. Uses it to cut out his own heart, his own poison heart, that he’ll first rip from his chest and then eat raw. Tear himself apart. Erase, destroy, disappear.

Cas had borne it as Dean walked away in the rain. Watched as he climbed into that sleek black machine and ran, taillights bleeding red over the wet and shining road. He’d watched until the night swallowed the car. Watched while the sky broke apart overhead. As he broke apart on the ground.

Oh this newness, this shattering. He’d never known he could split into so many parts. How many fine seams and fault lines comprised his body. How each piece could snap, could hurt. Breaking. Aching. Wanting.

Now he has to bear helpless witness as Dean eviscerates himself slowly. While Dean hollows himself out only to fill up again with the dank and dark waters of blame. While he sinks under, slides into the black.

Cas, filled with the newness of this heartbreak. With the weight of his stolen, shattered wings keeping him from rushing to the side of his desperate, drowning man.

Oh no. Oh please.

So many things are broken now.


End file.
